


Back in the Day

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder





	Back in the Day

These days a wok and fresh produce replaced the takeout cartons in their kitchen. But today, just once, he wants back in the day. When she opens the kitchen door she frowns, surveying the table as she drops her bag on one of the chairs.  
“Where’s dinner? I thought it was your turn?”  
“Hungry, Scully?” he asks, reaching into the cupboard over the hob.  
“Writing autopsy notes always makes me hungry.”  
“And people thought I was spooky,” he says, holding out the bowl of popcorn and inhaling the salty tang. “There’s no butter, Scully. I promise.”  
She takes a handful. “Is this all you’ve done?”  
The rising inflection is such a blast from the past, that tone bordering on whiny, that nasal pitch matched with the furrowed brow. It’s classic 90s Scully and he wishes for a moment he could wrap her in a giant trenchcoat and run through a rain soaked forest. Instead, he takes her hand and walks her into the living room to the stairs.   
She hesitates at the bottom step. “Since when did we do dessert first, Mulder?”  
He chuckles and tugs at her hand. “Personally, I don’t have a preference for the order in which we eat, drink or do whatever.”  
The door to their bedroom opens to reveal half a dozen takeout cartons - fried chicken, pizza, Chinese. She stands there, hands on hips, lips pursed, holding in whatever snarky remark is formulating in that brilliant mind of hers.  
“Don’t you ever just think about our life and wonder at it? At the things we’ve done, the things we’ve seen, the fact that we’re still here? We have lived, Scully. Truly lived and much as I love your healthy take on life, now that we’re maturing…”  
“Sometimes you just want to pig out,” she says, rushing to the pizza box and taking a slice of pepperoni and holding it over her mouth.  
He watches her, sitting on the bed, eating without care, orange oil staining the skin around her lips. She sucks her fingers and delves into the fried chicken, biting the plump side of a drumstick and pushing the batter into her mouth.   
“Mulder,” she says, chewing. “This is the best kind of nostalgia. All we need is an old IBM laptop, cellphones the size of bricks and a bunch of blurry prints scattered across the bed.”  
“Funny you should say that,” he says, opening the closet and producing said items. She giggles so much that she snorts. “It gets better, Scully.” He bends down and opens the suitcase wedged at the back. “When you moved out I cleared out the shed, ready to take the stuff to Goodwill, but I found this and couldn’t bear to part with it.”  
“What is it?” she’s standing behind him.   
He turns and gives her the blue jacket she wore all those years before on the case in the Olympic National Park in Washington. Those glowing bugs. “You looked adorable in this. Iconic Scully.”  
She slips it on and throws her head back to laugh at its size. “Why did I ever think this was okay to wear.”  
“You were very practical back then.” He pulls her in for a hug. “And you were in a tough environment. You were a real trailblazer. Still are.”  
“I seem to recall that case didn’t end so well. If you’re trying to recreate our old life, you’re going to have to suck the life out of me, Mulder.”  
He bends to kiss her, seeking out the tender spot under her ear. “That can be arranged, Scully.”


End file.
